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AMONG THE SOURCES OF THE SASKATCHE- 
WAN AND ATHABASCA RIVERS. 



MARY T. S. SCHAFFER. , , .^V 



Reprinted from The Bulletin of the Geographical Society of Philadelphia, 
Vol. VI, No. 2, April, 1908. 



''/'??/ 






AMONG THE SOURCES OF THE SASKATCHEWAN 
AND ATHABASCA RIVERS. 



Mary T. S. Schaffer. 



The primary reason for writing this paper is, that it may bear 
its quota of usefulness to any who may be inchned to visit the 
section described. As to the location of the ground covered, from a 
glance at Dr. J. Norman Collie's map which accompanies his book 
— " Climbs and Explorations in the Canadian Rockies," it will be 
found to be bounded by latitudes 51' 25" to 52' 25", and longitudes 
116' to 118'. This is of course a rough outline, but it contains all 
the tributaries of those two great rivers of the north, which we 
visited. Our greatest trouble in the spring of 1907, was to obtain 
information which would be of even the smallest use in pointing 
out the way over such almost undescribed ground.^ 

Dr. Collie's book has summed up the work of himself and his 
friends, with that of previous workers in the same field, i. e., the 
section lying between Laggan and Wilcox Pass ; the Fortress Lake 
region and the Brazeau country belong to Dr. Coleman. As for die 
Yellow-head Pass, it is a matter of rather ancient history, having 
been described as far back as the days of Alexander Henry, an 
employee of the Northwest Fur Trading Co., who has left us an 
interesting diary, which covers the years between 1799 and 1814. 
The old history of the pass was of small practical use to us how- 
ever, as it w^as the intervening valleys between this pass and the 
Kicking Horse Pass (that which the Canadian Pacific uses to-day), 
which we wished to explore. 

1 In spite of a general knowledge of the subject, we were unable to get at the 
material, and not until after our return to civilization, were we fortunate enough to obtain 
literature and maps which would have been so valuable to us in the far wilderness. One 
who goes hence should carry Dr. Collie's map. This is easy to obtain, being published 
with his "Climbs and Explorations"; Outram's map which accompanies his work— " In 
the Heart of the Canadian Rockies," may be of equal value; Dr. A. P. Coleman's 
articles published in the Royal Geographical Journals, are of great use; and James 
McEvoy's report on the Government Geological Survey of that section is a most 
interesting pamphlet to have. From these few sources is to be culled all the practical 
information that can be found on the country. 

(48) 



17 The Sources of Saskatehezvan and Athabasea Rivet's 

To know that the expedition was a momentous one to those 
involved in its success, one has but to read the warnings of those 
who have gone before. We may well call it the " Inhospitable 
Land/' A well-known hunting-country, many have gone into its 
fastnesses, only to be driven out by starvation, and the added sorrow 
of lost, starved, or drowned horses. Dr. Collie but voices that 
which may be read between the lines of all those who have written 
their experiences in this country. He says : " Jean Habel's outfit, 
like so many others, ran short of provisions and the expedition had 
to be curtailed ; and much good work of exploration, which might 
otherwise have been accomplished, was thereby prevented. Some 
day perhaps, it will be possible to obtain an outfit manned and 
equipped with sufficient transport and provisions to last out a trip 
of three or four months. At present nobody seems to have mastered 
the problem; and the prospect of running short of food on the 
journey remains the most serious obstacle to all projects of extended 
exploration among the mountains." 

That we would be tempted to dally day by day, we well knew, 
that the game was becoming, year by year, more scarce, previous 
trips and the hard experience of others had warned us ; and the 
food problem became a very simple matter in arithmetic. As we 
had hopes of reaching most of the tributaries of the two rivers 
within the latitudes and longitudes given previously we reckoned 
food and clothing for four months. The season of 1907 was an 
uncommonly late one, and it was not till June 20, that we were 
able to leave all civilization behind and start for the higher passes. 
The morning of the twentieth, was anything but a typical June 
day, and the first twenty miles of the Bow trail were not what one 
might choose for a pleasure jaunt. It was spitting hail and snow, 
which struck not only our faces but deep into our souls ; for those 
who had not the spirit of the wilds surging in their hearts, had 
prognosticated all sorts of mishaps, and if one were looking for 
" signs," they were about us in profusion. Our caravan consisted 
of eleven horses, one running light, that in case of chafed back or 
accident, there would be an extra one to use. This will seem an 
extravagance to many, but it proved to be one of the best invest- 
ments in the entire outfit, as the appearance of our animals showed 
on our return to civilization, not a horse being out of commission, 
and every one of them capable of working four months longer. 

(49) 



Mary T. S. Schaffer i8 

The Bow trail to the summit of the pass, is at the present time, 
rather a discouraging proposition, but there is one satisfaction, it 
is one of the poorest bits of trail that is to be experienced through- 
out the entire trip. It was of course .at its very worst this late 
June day, for the mountains were still discharging their winter 
snows into the soaked and over-flowing valleys. Dr. Collie's map, 
compiled from the work done by himself, Wilcox, Coleman, Drewry 
and McArthur, Noyes and Thompson, was our constant companion 
in the saddle. It is necessarily far from perfect, distances here 
and there being too long or too short, but a very good friend to 
have at all times. Often when the trail was dim or obscured, or 
completely lost, have I thought of and admired the men, who with 
only an occasional suggestion that the Indian hunter had been before 
them, fought their way through the discouraging valleys, found a 
passage round impassable gorges, and eventually reached the higher 
peaks of the Rocky Range. 

The upper Bow Lakes and Bow Pass were the first plunge into 
fine scenery. If one may go no further, this is a trip worth taking. 
At the summit, where the spruces remind one of a great natural 
park, a short detour to the left leads over easy slopes to the clififs 
which overhang Peyto Lake, the waters of which are the out- 
pourings of the Wapta neve. It is the first glimpse of the Sas- 
katchewan country. 

Here at our feet Bear Creek (on some maps Mistaya (Bear) but 
never locally so-called) has its rise, flows north, taps the beautiful 
lakes known as the Waterfowl, goes rippling, and gurgling, and 
dancing along in happy oblivion to the superb panorama on both 
shores — Howse Peak, the stately Pyramid, the frowning Bungalow, 
and lastly Murchison, losing its final identity in the turbid Sas- 
katchewan at the base of that great, wandering, outspread, pile of 
crags — Mt. Wilson. The days on Bear Creek grew hotter and 
hotter. We hurried along as fast as our heavily loaded horses 
would permit, knowing that each hour was adding inches to that 
angry, impetuous river and anxious to reach the other side before 
we had to swim for it. At 4 p. m., on June 25, we had crossed 
Bear Creek at its mouth (no easy matter when the water is high, 
for the river-bed is covered with huge bowlders) and faced the 
first serious proposition — crossing the Saskatchewan River. An 
excellent ford across the North Fork mav be found about one mile 

'50) 



19 The Sources of Saskatchewan and Athabasca Rivers 

west of Bear Creek, and we were in the nick of time, twenty-four 
hours later would have meant swimming'. 

With minds at rest, we camped that night on a high bluff over- 
looking the North Fork ; behind us rose the high walls of i\It. 
Wilson, while Murchison, Sarbach, Pyramid, and the Freshfields 
died away in rosy, then purpling shadows ; night came down, and 
we realized at last our utter isolation. The door was closed for 
many days to come to other companionship and the situation was 
saved from a sense of loneliness only by our minds being devoted 
absolutely to the destruction of mosquitoes, an occupation which 
lasted for several weeks. From Bear Creek to Wilcox Pass the 
scenery is a succession of beautiful pictures. About ten miles from 
the summit of the pass, the trail leaves the shingle-flats of the 
river and mounts a long and arduous hill, eventually reaching a 
point about looo feet above the valley, where the timber being scarce, 
the views of the receding and on-coming peaks are wonderfully 
fine. About three miles below " Camp Parker " (an easily recog- 
nized camp-ground at the junction of Nigel Creek and the North 
Fork), the now fast-diminishing river makes a deep plunge, form- 
'ing what we have called " Panther Falls." Soon after passing the 
falls, Mt. Athabasca comes into sight on the left; being 11,900 feet 
high, and snow-clad^ it is a joy even to eyes now so used to moun- 
tains. From " Camp Parker " to the main pass is about five miles, 
but a canyon beyond it being said to make that way impracticable, 
the trail to the true pass on the right, is a little hard to find. There 
is an old and much used camp among the spruces on the high 
meadows, called " Camp Expectation." Reaching this, the forest 
is skirted for a quarter of a mile, when a pebbly river-bed is reached ; 
this is followed up for a short distance when a good trail to the 
pass is struck. This hidden trail is well worth a search, any other 
route is a hard grind for the horses. 

The pass itself is long, heavy, ugly travelling; if the day be 
cloudy, it could not be more uninteresting, but being 7800 feet 
high, there is a fine view of Mt. Athabasca to the southwest, while 
to the north is seen the group of mountains climbed and named by 
Dr. Collie and his party. 

The first drop on the north side of the pass, is a long sharp 
hill, where a well-marked trail leads to " Sheep Camp," a name 
well-known to hunters. Bv this camp runs a beautiful stream head- 

(50 



Mary T. S. Schdffer 30 

ing- from Wilcox Pass, which we afterward named " Tangle Creek." 
Here the trail disappears as though it had dropped into the earth. 
It may help some future traveller to know that if he will cross this 
creek at the camp, bear well to the left in the forest, he will soon 
come upon a very good trail, which quickly leads to the Su Wapta 
in the valley below. Little Tangle Creek added quite a volume to 
the main river (an important branch of the Athabasca), and with its 
wide shingle-flats and guardian mountains on both sides, bore a 
strong resemblance to the Saskatchewan tributaries. 

Unlike the Saskatchewan region, however, horse-feed here is 
limited and camp-grounds consequently scarce. The first possible 
stopping-place is at least two miles below the main Su Wapta canvon, 
and on the left side of the river. Even that is a very poor place, 
being but a small slough, with scarce feed enough for a dozen 
horses for one night. The next feeding place is found in the 
quick-sand belt, five to seven miles further down the river. This 
does not sound attractive for the horses, but unless it be early 
spring, there is little danger. This quick-sand is not a pleasing 
problem ; it extends down the river at least three miles, and there 
being no way to go round, it must be traversed. Beyond it, and 
just north of the Creek marked " Jonas " on the map, a large rock- 
slide of recent origin, gave us our next bit of study. It was soon 
navigated however by plowing through the muskeg on the west 
side of the river for at least four hundred yards, when we struck 
dry ground and a bit of a trail, and " going " was easy again. 
Beyond the rock-slide, Jonas Creek emptied its clear waters into 
the muddy Su Wapta, while a little further on, and flowing in a 
parallel direction, Pobokton Creek appeared from amidst the thick, 
green forest. Dr. Coleman, who named both creeks, told us later, 
that the names had been transposed on Collie's map, but for fear 
of still further misunderstanding — we let them alone. Bevond 
Pobokton (Owl) Creek, a long, rather low, rocky range marks the 
course of the main river for miles. For a day and a half we 
followed it in all its tiresomeness. Reaching the junction of the 
Su Wapta and the Athabasca, and seeing that it still continued in 
more or less broken form on down the Athabasca valley, we dubbed 
it " the Endless Chain." 

The Athabasca at this junction, gave us no such impression of 
might and strength as the Saskatchewan at an equal distance from 

(5^ 



21 The Sources of Saskatchezcan and Athabasca Rivers 

its source, the great ice-fields of the Cohimbia and surrounding 
peaks evidently contributed much more largely to the southern river. 

The Athabasca, at its source, is divided into three streams, and 
till they are reached at their junction, almost all scenic beauty is 
at a standstill. Not so the mosquitoes, deer-flies, bull-dogs, and 
caribou-flies; they were there by the millions to torment man and 
beast ; but not even they could deter us from a desire to see Fortress 
Lake, discovered and named by Dr. Coleman in 1893, visited by 
Wilcox in 1896, and Habel in 1901. 

In my diary I find this entry, " July 10, Indian Camp (our 
camps were all named to avoid confusion). The mosquitoes have 
shrieked and buzzed all night about our heads. If the number 
increases in direct ratio to the number of miles we go, at Fortress 
Lake we will be breathing and eating the pests." The words proved 
later to be almost a prophecy, though it was a matter of flies, not 
mosquitoes. While visiting the South or Columbia branch of the 
Athabasca, we were surrounded and overwhelmed, one evening at 
supper, by thousands of tiny flies, which though they did not bite, 
clung in clouds about us, drowned in our tea, became hopelessly 
entangled in the butter, died by hundreds in the apple-sauce, flew 
into ears, eyes, and nostrils, till we were distracted. 

Having crossed the southeast branch of the Athabasca, we con- 
tinued along the southwest branch, which Coleman has named the 
Chaba (beaver). Here we found a paradise for the horses, and 
made camp under the shadow of a noble crag, which proved later 
to be Fortress Mountain, and for which the lake was named. The 
lake being still an unknown quantity, the following day we made the 
ascent of a mountain (Mt. Quincy) opposite the Fortress and after 
a long, hot, weary scramble, Fortress Lake burst upon our sight, 
lying like an exquisite blue-green ribbon among the spruce-grown 
valleys below. It is about nine miles long, with an imposing moun- 
tain heavily covered with snow, rising at the far end. Habel has 
called it Mt. Blanc, while Wilcox seems to think it the long-lost 
Hooker. 

Heavy thunder-showers prevented any photography worth men- 
tioning, and we returned to camp to move our belongings to the 
shores of the lake. Beautiful as the lake in its exquisite setting 
is, it is no place for a permanent camp. The eastern end of the 
lake is a marsh, while the north and south shores are impenetrable 

(53) 



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Mary T. S. S chaffer 22 

owing to the dense forests and undergrowth. A raft was the only 
practical solution for reaching the western terminus and main out- 
let of the lake, and that w^as out of the question for us, as we had 
nothing with us but our valuable lash-ropes. Consequently we con- 
tented ourselves with a trip on our horses to the end of the Chaba 
valley, which proved to be about five miles long. Two miles south 
of the lake a stream joins the Chaba from the southeast and seems 
longer than the Chaba. The end of the Chaba valley is blocked 
by two tine glacier-tongues heavily covered with debris ; a huge 
avalanche, 30 or 40 feet thick, choked the narrow gorge one half 
mile from the extreme end, on our visit in 1907 (Habel mentions 
the same in 1901) while beautiful water-falls on our right fell hun- 
dreds of feet from the precipices looming far above our heads. 

Beautiful as Fortress Lake and her surrounding crags w'ere, w^e 
were glad to say " good-bye " after thirty-six hours on her oozing 
inhospitable shores and turn our faces toward the more southeasterly 
branch of the Athabasca. To this stream we were particularly 
tempted by having seen from a distance, an uncommonly fine pyram- 
idal, snow-capped peak, which we later decided could be no other 
than Collie's Mt. Columbia. Habel, who is the only other white 
person to have entered this valley so far as is known, records it 
in a short paper in Appalachia as " Gamma," and has reproduced 
with it a most striking picture. To the northeast of Columbia, a 
long spur juts out from that mountain, which we called " Edward 
the Seventh." The aspect of this valley is totally different from 
that of the Chaba. It is about 25 miles in length ; the stream at 
the junction of the two rivers seems to be about one half the size 
it is twelve miles nearer its source (bespeaking an underground 
passage), while muskegs and bottomless mountain streams make 
the travelling wearisome for at least fifteen miles. The last day's 
ride was one of uncommon impressiveness, and I quote from my 
diary. "August i. To-day the hill-sides on both right and left, 
were wooded to the base with rich, deep-green spruces, mountain- 
torrents like snowy threads peeped from amidst the foliage and the 
tumbling waters sent forth a music not to be surpassed. The thud 
of the horses' feet, the rushing of the glaciated river, and all else 
was silent. Columbia, which Collie reckons as 12,000 feet, loomed 
in pyramidal majesty at the end of the valley, while high surround- 
ing peaks came and went as we crept along among the lower hills. 

(54) 



23 The Sources of Saskatchezvan and Athabasca Rivers 

Alberta. Wooley, Stutfield, Diadem, and other mountains figured 
in our names for the unknown summits, but our point of observa- 
tion was far too low, to be at all certain of any of them. Caribou 
tracks grew more and more numerous ; here and there teepee-poles 
on the open hill-sides bespoke the some-time presence of the Indian 
hunter. With no timber-work to impede our progress, we rapidly 
neared the base of Mt. Columbia. Our course lay across the wdde 
shingle-flats, which then, at low water, was a garden of the pink 
Epilobium (Chamwnerion latifolium) and here and there silvery 
cascades fell hundreds of feet down sheer cliffs." 

About two miles north of Mt. Columbia, a much longer stream 
comes in from the west; this we explored the next day, but as 
usual, the clouds came down and obliterated everything of interest. 
Apparently there is a high mountain at the far end, and a glacier 
flowing from it, seems worthy of study. Having in our ignorance, 
dragged our horses to the base of Mt. Columbia, we quickly saw 
we must drag them away again on account of feed, so retired to 
two small islands four miles down the river, where a limited amount 
of slough-grass was found on the river's left. Throughout the 
entire Athabasca region this problem of feed was almost as serious 
as the rivers themselves. After waiting three days, we never got 
any particularly fine pictures of that wonderful mountain, being 
at all times either surrounded by clouds, or else steeped in flat 
sunshine. 

From the Columbia Branch, we now traced our way back to the 
main Athabasca, and from there to the Su Wapta, where we went 
in search of the Su Wapta Gorge. We found it within a mile of 
the mouth, and though the whole country is a country of gorges, 
this one is uncommonly fine. The walls are probably 150 feet high, 
the water makes a plunge of 50 feet at the upper end, then rushes 
seething and boiling through a deep elbow-shaped cut. Some one 
has hewn and thrown three trees across the narrowest part of the 
gorge (perhaps 20 feet wide), and cut on a near-by tree the faceti- 
ous notice, " No toll charged on this bridge." We had intended our 
next stopping-place to be Diadem Creek, where we hoped to climb 
and locate the peaks named by Collie's party in that section. This 
was however impossible as there was not a sign of horse-feed, and 
we were compelled to move on up the river for two miles where 
we went into camp for a couple of days. Here we ascended a creek 

(■55) 



Mary T. S. Schdffcr 24 

to the fine glacier at its source, climbed a low mountain on the 
creek's left (about 9000 feet), and were undoubtedly in the midst 
of Wooley, Stutfield and Diadem, but which was which, it was hard 
to say with the limited description given by their sponsors. On Au- 
gust 16, we climbed Peak Wilcox (10,050 feet), and should have 
had an interesting view of the country we had just come from, and 
others to which we were bound — but for the usual clouds. 

On August 17, we were camped at 7000 feet, just below Wilcox 
Pass. The morning opened with a regular, old-fashioned snow- 
storm, and the arrival at our tent-door of a total stranger before 
any one was awake. It was a queer sensation, looking out from 
one's sleeping-bag and seeing a man when there was no cause to 
think that such an object save our own guides were within a hundred 
miles of us. It proved to be Dr. Coleman's party. Dr. Coleman who 
had threaded the by-ways of so much of this country through which 
we had just been, and of whom we had spoken so often while in 
the mazes of the Athabasca sources. 

It proved a pleasant meeting in spite of driving snows, and we 
parted — they for the Yellow-head Pass and we for the West Branch 
and the Brazeau country. " The West-Branch-of-the-North-Fork- 
of-the-Saskatchewan ! " The most beautiful valley of all those we 
visited, and to go by such a name ! May it some day receive its 
due ; certain it is, it has not had it yet. It is essentially a valley of 
tumbling cascades and deep gorges, of muskegs and sloughs at 
its mouth, and shingle-flats at its source, with few good camp- 
grounds except on the pass. It runs in a straight line for about 
fifteen miles, when Mts. Alexandra, Gable and Lyell, with their 
snowy glaciers block the way. Here at right angles, another stream 
comes in direct from Thompson Pass and the Columbia ice-fields, 
about fifteen miles distant. To avoid the hard travelling Avhich 
following the river involves, those who may follow in the future 
will find a hunter's shack about five miles east of the base of Gable 
Peak, on the river's left. Fifty yards to the east of it, they will strike 
into the mountain and there come upon a fairly good trail winding 
over the shoulder of the hill. No packs had ever been to the summit 
of the Thompson Pass before, and it took some careful work to 
get the loaded animals up and around the rock ridges which balked 
us every few yards. What a camp that was by the calm, deep-green 
lake, which lies at the foot of Outram's /Watchman's Peak! Not 

/ 




35 The Sources of Saskatchezvan and Athabasca Rivers 

even the sign of the indefatigable Indian hunter was visible, only 
the little people of the wilderness, whose trails were everywhere. 
We drank from the clear, cold waters, and named it " Nashan-eseh "- 
— Stoney for " Wolverine-go-quick," our friend the hunter — 
Simpson. 

We found the task of taking the horses to the "summit of Thomp- 
son Pass a much easier one than we had first hoped. It is very 
steep in places, but the rock ridges, running transversely to the 
valley, made good shelves for footing. A good camp ground will 
be found a few hundred feet below the 6800 foot summit, on the 
lake shore. A low spur of Mt. Bryce, altitude about 9000 feet, 
gave us that which we had come so far to see, a view of the great 
Columbia ice-fields. Stretching for thirty miles to the north, the 
sight was one never to be forgotten ! So cold, so still, so silent and 
haughty in their supreme, icy beauty, they well repaid for all the 
hardships of reaching them. Outram says they contain at least 
200 square miles, and it can well be believed, from our point of 
vantage there seemed no limit to the billows and billows of ice. It 
was a grand marshaling of the monarchs. We stood in the heart 
of the highest which the Rocky range has to give to those who love 
the hills ; and at last I was willing to admit, that in spite of the 
drudgery and fatigue, there is a fascination in reaching the " top." 
The nipping winds however, stiffened our enthusiasm for even that 
wonderful sight ; so with a brisk run down the sliding scree, a plunge 
through the low scrub, a few tumbles over the rocks, we were back 
at Nashan-esen Camp, and a delicious supper of bacon and beans. 

As we emerged from the wonderful valley, in a downpour of 
rain, we christened it " Nashan-esen," hoping that " West-Branch- 
of-the-North-Fork " might some day be forgotten. 

September 5, saw us heading for Nigel Pass and the Brazeau 
country. The trail lies on the river's left, and at the summit, it will 
be found to wind among the rocks on the south side of the pass. 
When once found, the way proved perfectly easy going, having no 
doubt been a very old Indian trail. 

On the far side of the pass, one branch of the Brazeau has its 
rise ; this branch we followed for about 30 miles to the Brazeau 
Lake, keeping on the river's left for the first ten miles, when what 
there is of trail, crosses to the right side, and eventually surmounts 
a long, hilly shoulder and drops down to the main river. 

(57) 



Mary T. S. Schdffer 26 

Brazeau Lake is a beautiful, aquamarine sheet of water about 
six miles long, whose low surrounding" mountains, on that sunny 
morning of our introduction to it, were exquisitely reflected in its 
mirrored surface. We found a well-marked trail on its eastern 
shore, and every indication that it had long been a favorite hunting- 
ground of the Indians. Pushing on by an old and ideal camp- 
ground at the lower end of the lake, we camped that night at its 
northern extremity. Beyond the lake the valley extends for fully 
twelve miles. At its extreme limit rises a fine peak, which Cole- 
man has called Mt. Brazeau, and though unclimbed, he reckons it 
at 11,000 feet or over. Tempted by an old but very good Indian 
trail, we followed it the next day, to the very limit of horse climb- 
ing, or close on to 9000 feet, and reached as dreary an alpine 
view as I ever saw. There was but one event to redeem and justify 
the expedition. The snow lay deep, even below tree-line, the icy 
winds whistled through the spruces, and shrieked past the bare 
rock ridges, and the low-hanging clouds obscured the higher and 
distant peaks. At last even the dying alpine flowers were left be- 
hind, and we crossed a rocky ridge to meet a band of mountain 
sheep. Surprised at our sudden coming, in the twinkling of an 
eye, they had scaled impossible cliffs covered with ice, and were 
gazing down upon us from 1000 feet above. The brave old ram 
his head accentuated with a pair of magnificent horns, never flinched 
from his post, or removed his eye from the enemy, till in our 
descent, the lower jutting rocks hid us from view. Returning up the 
Brazeau River, we took a side trip to Jonas Pass, the stream froiT^ 
which flows into the Brazeau about five miles from Nigel Pass 
This pass was tried by a white man in 1893, Dr. Coleman, when 
finding his way to the Yellowhead Pass ; and excepting one hunter, 
I have heard of no one using it since. In many ways it is an 
improvement on the Wilcox Pass b}^ which to reach the Athabasca,, 
avoiding much that is disagreeable on the Su Wapta. To us at 
this late season of the year, it had no " tourist " charms. The 
summit of the pass was burdened with two, three, and even fout 
feet of snow, which with the hard w^ork on the horses, the brilliant 
glare on unprotected eyes from the snow, and the cutting, driving 
wind lashing our faces, seemed endless. A fine, solitary black bear, 
out for any belated berries, he might find beneath the snow, was the 

(58) 



37 The Sources of Saskatchczvan and Athabasca Rivers 

only bit of life to greet us on the great white silent stretch of 
loneliness. 

September 21 saw us anxiously scanning the clouds and a rift 
in the hills to the south of us, from our camp on the Brazeau. We 
were to try still another new pass, the Cataract, and this also almost 
unknown except to Coleman. Being but 200 feet lower than " Jonas," 
or 7550 feet high, we had little to expect in the way of an open 
trail. It proved to be quite all that we could ask to get our horses 
through, and w^as even more tedious than " Jonas." The Indian 
trail through the forest is well marked, and had there been no snow, 
we might have found such a trail as that which goes over Nigel 
Pass ; as it was, it was one long hard grind through fine, flufify 
snow, which allowed the horses to sink almost to the rocks beneath, 
plunge forward, and sink again. 

The south side of the pass is excessively tedious, as much of the 
way is avalanche-swept, and the apology for a trail is constantly 
blocked by fallen timbers. From the summit of the Pass to Pinto 
Lake is about fifteen miles. Here, owing to a pair of snow-blind 
eyes, we were forced to remain over a day ; and as provisions were 
getting low, the guides reinforced by three of the strongest horses, 
pack-saddles, and ropes, crossed Pinto Pass to the junction of the 
North Fork and Nashan-esen Rivers, and returned that night with 
the food we had cached at that point. It was only a matter of thirty 
miles, but it was over a pass which even Dr. Coleman gave up 
attempting with horses after investigating it for that purpose. 

We had traversed it the year before from the west to the east, 
but that was a different undertaking from this expedition, when the 
men were compelled to cut steps in the ice near the summit to enable 
the animals to get any foot-hold at all. Pinto Lake has long been 
a favorite fishing-ground for the Stoney Indians ; they had just 
made a visitation to those waters, and as Indians always do, had 
cleaned out every fish that would rise to bait. 

From Pinto Lake to the Kootenai Plains the trail follows Cata- 
ract Creek. It is a distance of about twenty-five miles to its 
junction with the main river, more or less uninteresting, and fire- 
swept from end to end. In the late fall the Saskatchewan is 
easy enough to ford where it divides into several channels near 
the base of the Sentinel Mountain. On the golden Kootenai Plains 
we rested and dallied among the Indians for a few days, then 

(59) 




Gaiji.e and Ai.exaxdka Glaciers ix Nashan-esen Yai.lev. 



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^^^ZJi^^' -i*--^ 


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"Mummery" on Baker Pass. 



Mary T. S. Schdjfcr 28 

hurried to the junction of Bear Creek and the Saskatchewan, crossed 
that river and ascended the North Fork in search of a valley, which 
Outram mentions on his map, " The-\"alley-of-the-Lakes." The 
entrance to this valley is quite nine miles from the mouth of the 
North Fork. At low water, a ford may be easily made opposite 
the rift in the hills, but at high water, can only be reached by 
crossing below on the main stream and following the west shore of 
the river. The trip though short, was an arduous one, and almost 
devoid of real interest. We found a very ancient Indian trail, 
which needed much circumnavigating and cutting, to get even our 
now depleted packs through ; the growth was very heavy and the 
way consequently dark and gloomy. By a brawling, noisy little 
river, we made the only camp where a sign of feed seemed possible 
for the tired horses, and that in the midst of fallen timbers on the 
avalanche-swept hill-sides. Outram describes this valley as he saw 
it from the summit of Mt. Lyell, 11,500 feet below him; we saw it 
at 8000 feet, where we climbed the following day, the sun beating 
down upon us, and the surrounding clouds so low that Lyell and 
everything else interesting was utterly obscured. The lovely lakes 
were only sloughs after all and the chief joy of the trip proved to 
be that we had been the first travellers to break the spell of silence 
in that lonely cleft of the hills. It had been many years since an 
Indian had been there, and the only other sign of life, was the blow 
of the axe from a solitary white hunter who had passed in the dead 
of winter. It was now October 5, and Howse and Baker Passes, 
our return route, quite unknown. Up the Middle Fork and to the 
Howse Pass, was like reading ancient history. One hundred and 
fifty years ago, the Indians from the Kootenai country took this 
portion of the trail on their journey to the Saskatchewan Plains 
(hence the name Kootenai Plains), to trade with Kline of Jasper 
House. As far as Howse Pass, it was delightful trailing ; being but 
4800 feet, we were on and over almost before we knew, and soon 
tumbling down beside the merry, chattering Blaeberry River. The 
instant Howse Pass is crossed, the character of the vegetation 
changes, and the trail becomes impeded with heavy fallen timber 
and an almost tropical undergrowth. Government surveyors had 
preceded us in the fall of 1907, and though the way was not a bed 
of roses, miles and miles of fatiguing work had been saved our men 
as far as the " Hunter's Cabin." 

(60) 



29 The Sources of Saslcafeheican and Athabasca Rivers 

On Dr. Collie's map, one has but to follow a plain red line, which 
turns to the left of the " Cabin " ; and the Baker Pass seevns the 
easiest thing imaginable. In reality, the Blaeberry is followed for 
two miles further after passing the second cabin (we never saw 
the first one), when the trail turns sharply to the left and winds 
up a hill-side. This emerges shortly on a very bowldery river-bed, 
which is to be crossed at the traveller's discretion, when Baker 
Pass with its trials and tribulations begins. Again I quote from my 
diary. " Quite ignorant of distances by this time, our horses having 
had but little feed for the last three days, and having already come 
ten miles since morning, we with only our saddle-animals pushed 
ahead with the injunction to stop for camp at the first sign of grass." 
It was quite noon, and we hurried along. The trail lay over a steep 
moss-covered slope, so steep there was no thought of riding; so 
steep, that place after place the horses would spring one and two 
feet to reach a bench above ; so steep and continuous, that they were 
forced to cling to the hill-sides while resting. 

Pack and saddle-horses were all soon in a dripping perspiration. 
Occasionally a call would come from behind, " Is there any end to 
it ? " There seemed none. The way was clear and well blazed, 
we must be on the trail and on we climbed — climbed till we reached 
timber-line at five o'clock. Not a mouthful of feed had we passed 
since leaving " Trapper's Cabin " — blueberry-bushes and moss, no 
more. Were we even on Baker Pass, and if so, why had we climbed 
to this high point? We could have camped anywhere, it was our 
starving horses to whom our thoughts turned. 

W., who had pulled us out of so many straits, went ofl:' to in- 
vestigate ; the time seemed interminable as we watched the slowly 
descending sun, now almost at the horizon. Mt. Mummery looked 
down upon us in icy indifference from across the valley, we stood 
clinging to the half frozen hill-side, while the weary, hungry horses, 
with drooping heads, tried to retain a foothold on the slippery, 
sliding mud. No one had had a mouthful of food since breakfast 
(we had come fully twenty miles), darkness would soon be upon us, 
we were 7200 feet above sea-level, and under the circumstances, 
no one could honestly say he felt cheerful. Then W. returned with 
the good news that though he was not positive we were on the right 
track, he saw a slough in a valley below, with indications of feed, 
and he thought we might reach it before dark. We forgot hunger, 

(61) 



Mary T. S. Schdffer 30 

mud, cold, everydiing- but that grass below ; and as though the 
horses had understood, with us, plunged down a long, mossy gully, 
in a very few minutes dropping 1000 feet to a tiny stream which was 
flowing exactly as we wished it to flow. The sight of a horse's 
imprint cheered us ; ofl: came the packs, " no hobbles to-night, there 
is grass in plenty, and wherever we be, there are two days' rest for 
our faithful friends." The next day disclosed the fact that we had 
really struck the Baker Pass, were right on it in fact; but after 
studying the map and the hours of travel the day before we found 
the map made the distance about ten miles, while we had travelled 
twenty. Under the circumstances it seemed rather excusable, that 
for once we had felt a sensation of being lost. Climbing a shoulder 
of Mt. Habel the next day, we soon had our bearings, looked down 
into the " Gap " and upon an exquisite little lake poised high on a 
shoulder nearest the Yoho ; to the north, Mummery and Forbes. 
With binoculars we could see the cairns on Collie and the Vice- 
President ; and into the Beaver-tail Valley — our way home. 



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